


It Was Always Only You (For Me)

by ofperspicacity



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Iwaizumi POV, M/M, progression of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4368548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofperspicacity/pseuds/ofperspicacity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were eight Iwaizumi Hajime promised his best friend that he'd play volleyball with him forever, and Iwaizumi isn't one to break his promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Always Only You (For Me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing IwaOi, so I hope I've captured it well. I guess it's also part Iwaizumi character study (because he's a character I'd really like to learn to understand better) and part relationship analysis. Childhood friends to lovers is my biggest weakness so I'm not exactly sure why I've never gotten around to writing them until now.
> 
> I hope the changing uses of names comes across the way it worked out in my head.
> 
> Towards the end, this gets real soppy real fast. You've been warned.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [ofperspicacity](http://www.ofperspicacity.tumblr.com)

Iwaizumi Hajime loved volleyball for the same reasons any eight-year-old boy would. He got to run and jump and smack the ball with all his might. It didn’t always go in the right direction, but that was okay because he’d always get to try again, and Tooru always shouted how cool he was no matter what. Tooru was obnoxious sometimes, but he was his best friend, so even though sometimes Hajime felt like he could punch him in the face – and there was that one time that he actually _did_ \- there was no one he’d rather play volleyball with.

“Do you want to play volleyball forever, Hajime-chan?” Tooru had a penchant for asking the strangest questions right at the moment Hajime had been about to drift off to sleep. 

“I don’t know.” He’d grumbled, flopping on his side to face Tooru because he’d learned a long time ago that it was useless to try to sleep once Tooru had started talking. The look on his face was so wide-eyed and sincere that Hajime felt himself softening a little bit. “Maybe.” He conceded.

“I want to.” Tooru announced matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be the best setter ever. I know I’m not that great now, because sometimes I still miss the ball and it hits me in the face, but I’m going to keep practicing. Someday I’ll be on TV, just like the team we watched tonight. Don’t you think that’d be _amazing_?” Maybe it was just a reflection of the soft glow of the light in the corner of the room, but Hajime could have sworn that Tooru had stars in his eyes. Without waiting for Hajime to respond, he continued. “And you know what would be even _more_ amazing?” He blinked at Hajime expectantly.

“What would?” He took the bait.

“If we got to play together.” A satisfied smile spread across Tooru’s face. “Because every good setter needs a good spiker, and you’re the best spiker I know.” A strange hot feeling suddenly brushed across Hajime’s cheeks. “And plus you’re my best friend, so I think we’d make a really good team. Promise you’ll play volleyball with me forever, Hajime-chan?” His words were starting to blur together as his eyelids began to droop, but he was determined to hold them open until he got his answer.

“Promise.” Hajime vowed, Tooru’s delighted smile the last thing he saw before finally giving in to sleep.

*

A few things had become evident as time passed. Iwaizumi was built for athletics, all toned muscle, agility, power, and grit. Oikawa, on the other hand, was built and fine-tuned specifically for volleyball. He was all calculated intuition and long, lithe fingers that controlled the ball’s every movement with seeming ease, coupled with just enough natural talent to push him just that far above the rest. By middle school it was becoming evident that while Iwaizumi had chosen volleyball, volleyball had chosen Oikawa.

In the years that followed Iwaizumi was fairly certain that Oikawa didn’t even remember the sleepy promise he’d made, but Iwaizumi thought about it often. Maybe it was childish, but somewhere along the line the keeping of that promise had become a solid objective in Iwaizumi’s life. It only seemed natural to remain at Oikawa’s side as they grew together, and watching the progression of Oikawa’s skills sparked an almost parental feeling of pride in Iwaizumi’s chest. He was certain that his best friend was going somewhere, and if he was lucky he just might be carried along in the undertow. When he played at his side, he almost felt invincible.

Iwaizumi partially blamed himself when, in their third year of middle school, the Oikawa he’d always known began to crumble before his eyes. He hated that it took him so long to realize that something was off-kilter in the best friend he’d always been so attuned to. It had all started with the addition of what their coach defined as a “genius” who threatened everything Oikawa had worked so hard to achieve. It was the first time that Iwaizumi had seriously feared Oikawa had been pushed over the edge. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t as good with words and people as Oikawa was, and he knew that, but what he was good at was man-handling Oikawa, so he dealt with the situation the only way he knew. The day he found Oikawa in the gym long after everyone else had already gone home, sending serves into thin air long after his palms had turned an angry, stinging red, he grabbed him by the shirt and said the only thing he knew would get through to him: “If you get hurt, everything will be pointless, dumbass!”

It wasn’t enough, however. Iwaizumi watched, feeling helpless for the first time in his life, as his best friend spiraled into a panic so acute it even ate away at his ability to play volleyball. Iwaizumi could only clench his fists and grit his teeth when Kageyama was put in for Oikawa and Oikawa took the bench with the most broken look Iwaizumi had ever seen on his face. It didn’t take much searching to find Oikawa in the gym after the match, and his instincts took over the moment he saw Oikawa about to unleash every single ounce of frustration on what he perceived as the manifestation of his suffering. Kageyama had looked almost shell-shocked when Iwaizumi sent him on his way, but there would be time later to atone to him for Oikawa’s actions. 

Oikawa’s every frustration was based in the foolish mindset he’d picked up somewhere along the line that he had to win every single one of his battles on his own. To silence him, Iwaizumi resorted to the only defense he knew and head-butted Oikawa square in the nose. “Dumbass! Do you think you’re fighting by yourself?” _I promised to fight alongside you all those years ago, and I haven’t forgotten._ “It’s a given that no one person on our team can defeat Ushiwaka one-on-one, but that’s not the point! There are six players on a court, remember? No matter whether we’re going up against Ushiwaka or some genius first year, the team with the better six is stronger!” He stopped as suddenly as he’d started, drawing in deep breaths to refill his lungs after his outburst. 

“The team with the better six is stronger.” Oikawa echoed softly.

Suddenly Iwaizumi realized how much his forehead was stinging. “Sorry.” He said abruptly. “Did I head butt you too hard?” He pulled Oikawa to his feet, and there, in his eyes, was the Oikawa he’d made that promise to all those years ago.

“How do I put this?” Oikawa began, a new determination flooding his face. “Suddenly, I feel invincible.” Iwaizumi couldn’t help thinking that as long as Oikawa felt invincible, he felt invincible too.

*

Iwaizumi remained at Oikawa’s side throughout high school. There was no place he felt more comfortable, or more needed. He was there through wins and losses, elation and despair, the happy glow of a new relationship and the pain of a break-up, taking some small measure of pride in the fact that he was the one constant in Oikawa’s life. He’d never taken the time to really assess the place Oikawa had in his own life, being content for the longest time simply being at his side.

In Iwaizumi’s eyes, Oikawa was finally coming into his own. Every one of his childhood dreams was falling into place. He had colleges falling over themselves to offer him a position on their volleyball team. They’d been on TV just like he’d dreamed, even if it was only a local station. He was an award-winning setter who had gained the admiration and respect of many, but there were few who understood how much blood, sweat, and tears had gone into making it a reality the way Iwaizumi did.

The first time Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa and realized that he was in love with his best friend, it scared the hell out of him. It wasn’t so much that it was a new feeling, but rather that he’d never taken the time to consider that whatever they shared might not always be enough. For a while he kept this new knowledge to himself, scoffing bitterly into the darkness of his bedroom at night when he thought of the fangirls that fawned over Oikawa, whose praise he ate up, but who could never possibly understand him as well as Iwaizumi already did. Even if he did work up the courage to confess one day, he knew that he’d never been good with words. 

It was fitting, then, that Oikawa was ultimately the one to bring it up. It had been a while since they’d had a sleepover save for training camps, but Oikawa had insisted ‘for old times’ sake’. “Iwa-chan?” Like clockwork, Oikawa’s voice broke through the darkness the moment Iwaizumi’s eyes slid shut.

“What do you want, Trashykawa?” He growled, slowly turning to face his best friend. The look on his face gave him pause. The tiniest of smiles had painted itself across his lips.

“We’ve sure been through a lot, haven’t we?” He asked softly.

“That’s for sure.” Iwaizumi conceded, allowing himself to hold Oikawa’s chocolate gaze for a few seconds longer than necessary because everything came easier at night.

“You remember that sleepover we had when I made you promise to play volleyball with me forever?” Oikawa asked, gaze never wavering. 

Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat. “Of course.” He assured gruffly.

“Well… thank you.” An uncharacteristic soft sincerity filled his eyes. “You didn’t have to stick with me all this time.”

“Dumbass.” Iwaizumi frowned to force his features into anything other than a soppy smile. “I did it because I wanted to.” Suddenly Oikawa’s hand was resting on his cheek, startling his eyebrows out of their frown and settling there surprisingly warm and tender.

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Oikawa finally went on softly, not bothering to move his hand. “You sure got me through a lot, Iwa-chan. Even if it did take a few bloody noses to do it.” A soft chuckle escaped between his lips, and he finally slowly drew his hand away. “Maybe this is a stupid thing to think, but I guess I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t ask.” He spoke quickly. “I used to think it went without saying, but I love you, Iwa-chan. And if that’s not how you feel then I guess this conversation never happened, but I guess I never really got the chance to tell you how much you mean to me.” His expression was so plaintive, so uncertain, wide brown eyes staring right back into Iwaizumi’s, that for a moment he was so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to say.

Eventually, the words came. “You mean a lot to me, too, Trashykawa.” It hardly sounded like an insult. “You shouldn’t doubt how I feel about you.” Everything he’d always wanted to say caught in his throat, so at the small smile that tugged at the corner of Oikawa’s mouth, he leaned in and met it with a soft kiss. “I love you, too.” He clarified as if it needed saying. Suddenly, Oikawa was beaming.

“Hajime.” He said softly, reaching out until his fingers were completely tangled with Iwaizumi’s. “Promise me you’ll play volleyball with me forever?” 

“I promise, Tooru.” Iwaizumi replied barely above a whisper, reading easily between the lines to return his promise of forever and sealing it with another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> (If you're waiting for an update on The Voice in Your Ear, I promise I haven't abandoned it. This was just begging me to be written, and I'm suffering from a bit of writers' block.)


End file.
